


Danger Buddies

by LucindaAM



Series: The Dangerous Adventures of Two Idiots [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: All the times you've run into danger, Bucky has no sympathy, F/M, Fluff, Gonna give Steve a heart attack, It's Karma son, Light Swearing, No Smut, angst but resolved angst, poor steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:13:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25027498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucindaAM/pseuds/LucindaAM
Summary: Of course Steve would be destined to fall in love with someone just as incapable of following orders and just as likely to jump face-first into danger as himself. That's what you get when Karma is in town.One of these days, you're going to be the death of him. He just knows it.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Series: The Dangerous Adventures of Two Idiots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820575
Comments: 12
Kudos: 99





	Danger Buddies

The first time it had happened, Steve hadn’t been there. You hadn’t thought twice when you’d raced for the grenade that had been lobbed at Clint’s unsuspecting back. Somehow, you’d managed to kick it away but both you and Clint had been knocked back by the force to the explosion. Clint had walked away with a few minor injuries. You hadn't quite been so lucky. You’d woken up a few days later in the med bay with a very anxious Steve sitting beside you. He did a good job of hiding his anxiety with the hours of lecture you received while confined to bed. You weren’t sure you’d forgiven him for that. But then again, seeing the flash of fear in his eyes every time he left you alone in the med bay . . . well . . . that was enough to give him a pass. You hadn’t meant to worry him.

The second time it happened . . . Steve was shouting orders in your ear from across the enemy base. Somehow, the enemy had managed to separate everyone. It was clear you were being led into a trap. You’d relayed as much over the comms to the others. Still, despite Steve’s panicked shouts in your ear and his orders to turn around and retreat, the second you’d heard the first whimpering's of hostages, you couldn’t hold back. With a quick; “Sorry, Cap’. You’re breaking up . . . czhzzzhehcchtch.” You pulled your weapon and ran headfirst into the room. Luckily, the sounds of gunfire easily masked the angry rantings of one particularly furious 100-year-old veteran who was certain he was about to have a heart-attack.

Though you’d gotten another lecture in the quinjet on your two-hour flight home while Steve angrily but with all the gentleness in the world, patched your wounds, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. You’d saved fifteen lives. It was worth the few measly bullets that had found themselves in you.

The third time it happened was just after Bucky had come to live at the compound. He was still skittish and preferred to stick to the shadows. You’d seen how desperate Steve was to have his friend back and did your best to find ways to help Bucky adjust. He was just as shy around you as everyone else at first, but he’d slowly been letting you in. It was because of that small rapport you’d developed that you hadn’t thought twice about breaking and entering his room the first time he’d had a nightmare without Steve home to calm him down. Unfortunately, Bucky didn't trust you like THAT yet. It probably hadn’t helped that you’d been so focused on helping him, you hadn’t taken a moment to think over whether or not jumping on his bed to touch him was the best way to go about things. Faster than you’d been able to track, Bucky had you gripped by the throat and pinned against the wall. It had taken at least a minute for the crazed look in his eye to fade as he struggled back to awareness. It had taken another couple of minutes for him to recognize what he was doing and drop you to a gasping heap on the floor. You’d quickly assured him that you’d had worse and regaled him with some of your more . . . unfortunate adventures until he’d relaxed enough to allow you to gently approach him and sit with him on his bed. You’d made him swear on his life that he wouldn’t tell Steve any of those stories. Steve would have KILLED you if he’d known. Bucky had laughed and told you Steve had done worse. You’d fallen asleep, side by side in the wee hours of the morning as Bucky told you tales of Steve as a youth. When Steve got home a few hours later, he’d found the two of you cuddled together on Bucky’s bed, looking more peaceful than he’d seen either of you look in a long time. He’d smiled at the sight and had taken a picture before he saw the finger-shaped bruises just starting to color in on your throat. With an angry huff, he’d decided he was going to kill you when you woke up. If you hadn’t been the death of him before then.

The fourth time it happened, you couldn’t have possibly been blamed. It wasn’t your fault that murder psychos had infiltrated Tony Stark’s work staff. You also couldn’t have possibly been blamed for taking a knife to the chest. You’d been surprised, okay? It’s not everyday you’re asked down to the legal floor to sign some paperwork only to turn around just in time for the knife meant for your back to lodge in your chest. The ensuing carnage and the bloodied carpets COULD be blamed on you. Even with a knife sticking out of your chest, you still managed to kill all the sleeper agents and get the rest of the floor evacuated to safety. Sadly, you hadn’t been able to follow them. You’d slumped to the floor and felt liquid begin pooling in your lungs. Blood dripped from your mouth as you’d fumbled with the cord of one of the desk phones, just barely managing to pull it off the desk. You were seeing spots by the time you’d managed to dial Steve’s phone and warn him. You were nearly unconscious by the time he’d burst through the stairwell door and onto the floor. He’d desperately called for you, but you’d been unable to do anything to signal him before cough a few lungfuls of blood onto the already soiled carpet. Steve’s already pale face lost all of its remaining color when he saw your limp form. He’d yelled something into his comms and had rushed to your side, begging you to stay with him. The rest of the Avengers hadn’t been too far behind him and quickly rushed into action when they saw the state you were in.

Steve had brushed a lock of hair away from your face, ignoring the blood that stained his fingers, and leaned his forehead against yours. “Stay with me, doll.” He’d begged.

You’d weakly grasped at his wrist and smiled. “Haven’t you noticed? Can’t get rid of me that easy. And it’s not for lack of trying.”

Steve had uttered your name and a few unsavory curse words to boot as he looked at you with an expression you could only interpret as 'you’re going to be the death of me.' You’d given him a macabre smile of blood-stained teeth before the med team finally arrived on the floor and Dr. Cho started barking orders.

You’d woken up a few hours later, the cradle having done its job, with a sleepy Steve propped up on an uncomfortable looking chair next to you. You’d smiled and squeezed his fingers. Steve had jolted awake almost immediately.

“Gotta stop scaring me like that, doll. I’m an old man. I don’t know how much more of this my heart can take.” He'd murmured, leaning close to you.

You’d laughed. “Please, soldier. I happen to know your heart is just as super as the rest of you.”

The two of you had shared a quick smile and a brief, but smoldering kiss before you’d drifted off again, leaving Steve to finally let out the tension he’d been carrying since he’d first gotten your gurgling message. You would be okay.

Steve glanced at you from across the quinjet. You were methodically strapping weapons to your suit as you chatted with Nat about the upcoming mission. The crease in his brow that was becoming a permanent part of his face ever since he met you, once again slipped into place as every near-death experience and every close call for the past two years flitted through his mind. It was a greatest-hits video track of all the ways this mission could go south . . . fast.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder interrupting his thoughts. “Gotta stop thinking about it, punk. She’ll be fine. She always is.” Bucky said, an amused tone in his voice.

Steve turned and shot a glare at his oldest friend. “Jerk.” He murmured. His eyes slid back to you. “Can’t help it, Buck. Seems like every time I turn around, she’s throwing herself into danger again.”

Bucky let out a sarcastic huff. “Hmm. I wonder what that’s like.”

Steve froze at the sarcastic tone and turned to look at Bucky suspiciously. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked.

Bucky shrugged a shoulder and turned just in time to see you toss him a salute and run for the open doors of the jet, without a parachute on.

“I don’t know, Stevie. Maybe it’s because your gal’ reminds me an awful lot of a scrappy kid from Brooklyn who just didn’t know when to back down. Maybe it’s cuz she just jumped out of the plane without a ‘chute on just like someone else I know.” He shrugged.

Steve froze for a fraction of a second before he suddenly spun around and glanced around the jet wildly. “Son of a . . .!” He raced towards the open jet doors, grabbing a parachute on his way out.

“Karma’s a bitch, Steve!” Bucky called to Steve’s retreating back.

Steve shot his oldest friend a one-fingered salute before throwing himself out of the jet and angling himself to catch up to your free-falling form.

He hated how many times he’d seen you on deaths-door since the two of you had met. But Steve couldn’t deny that you more than made up for it in other ways when the two of you were alone. You may be an idiot, but you were HIS idiot and damn if he didn’t love jumping into danger after you.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, Steve. But you needed a healthy dose of Karma.


End file.
